


edge of the balcony

by adoremark



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Domestic Fluff, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoremark/pseuds/adoremark
Summary: Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143





	edge of the balcony

**Author's Note:**

> based off a doujinshi by gusari called "uramado dogfight" which is absolutely gorgeous i love their works

Oikawa sets down the last of the boxes and rests his hands on his hips, scanning the empty apartment before him. Not bad, he thinks to himself. He cranes over his shoulder to see Hinata stacking the boxes. 

"This place is pretty nice for something you had to find on the fly," Oikawa grins. 

Hinata flops on his bed, bare of any cover sheets. "Ah, it was nothing! I have connections."

Oikawa looks out to the sliding doors, where a balcony extends. The sun is starting to go down. "Hey, I'm gonna check out the balcony," he says to Hinata, who responds with a hum, not paying attention as he's already tapping away on his phone. Probably texting Kageyama. Or playing piano tiles.

The sixth floor boasts a sprawling view of Tokyo, the buildings bunched together like green onion stalks, and he can see the Skytree in the middle of it all, like an overgrown green onion. It's been a while since he's been in Tokyo. The only thing he didn't harbor about the city was that you could never see the stars, no matter how high up you lived. Though he supposed the city lights were supposed to make up for that. He peers over the railing where a skinny river streams underneath him. He hears the sliding door open, so he turns around expecting it to be Hinata crawling out to see the view. 

Oikawa finds himself looking in the face of the one person he was dead set on not running into. 

Iwaizumi stares back at him. 

They both haven't said a word, gaping at each other. Oikawa wants to say something, but he isn't sure what, or if he even can. There's something off about Iwaizumi's face. He looks rough as always, but his features are sharper than what Oikawa remembers. Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years. 

"Oikawa, I'm leaving!" Hinata calls out. 

Oikawa breaks off his gaze and marches to the door, slamming it shut behind him. Hinata is gathering his stuff and putting on his shoes. 

"Kageyama misses me! Well, he didn't _say that_ exactly, he asked me what we were having for dinner, which means that he wants to— hey, are you okay?"

Oikawa blinks. "Huh? Oh, yes. I'm splendid."

Hinata raises a brow. 

"You heard Tobio-chan, can't be late!" Oikawa pushes Hinata out of his apartment. "And thanks for your help today!" He closes the door before Hinata can reply. Oikawa walks over to his bed in a daze and sits down. 

What the fuck was that? Out of all people to live next door, it had to be him. Oikawa would've preferred Ushijima, which was saying something. He would've taken Ushijima harping over him, all that "You should've played for Japan" nonsense, any day over this. Oikawa had gone out of his way these past four years to not put himself in Iwaizumi's path. He didn't even look at Iwaizumi's social media, not that Iwaizumi cared for that stuff anyways. Whenever he talked to Makki and Mattsun over the phone, he looked away whenever they brought up Iwaizumi's name, and eventually they learned not to mention it to him. Oikawa groans, running his hands down his face. He totally screwed up their first meeting too! What kind of reaction was that? He just stared at Iwaizumi like a fish out of water. But then again, what was he supposed to do in this situation? 

Oikawa closes his eyes. Whatever, he'll lose his mind over this tomorrow. He doesn't want to think about it anymore. 

* * *

The next morning, Oikawa heads out to his therapy appointment. He's resigned himself to spending the entire day out. He'll put Iwaizumi out of his head. It's not like he needs to unpack right away. And it works for the most part. After therapy, Oikawa wanders Tokyo's streets, buying some necessities, window shopping, and nibbling on some taiyaki. He buys a red bean taiyaki, all while eyeing the green tea ones. Iwaizumi always liked the green tea flavor better. Oikawa shakes his head, forcing the thought out of his mind. Green tea is gross anyways.

He drops by Hinata and Kageyama’s apartment in the evening, carrying some drinks along with him. After running into Hinata in Brazil, the two kept in contact, and Hinata was gracious enough to help him out when he returned to Japan. His boyfriend is tolerable at best. 

"So your ex is your neighbor?"

Hinata is munching on some chips, his leg hooked around Kageyama's waist. Kageyama watches the TV screen, but he's listening in on the conversation. 

"We dated in high school and broke up before college," Oikawa says blankly. He still can't quite grasp the situation. 

"Wait, you mean _Iwaizumi-san_?" Hinata screeches. "Your old team's ace?"

Kageyama pinches his knee. Hinata smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. But hey, now you have the chance to clear the air, right? Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something."

"The universe can shut the hell up. When have I ever listened to anyone else? "

"You guys were friends before though, right?" Hinata rolls over, his stomach on the couch. His legs are now hanging over Kageyama's lap. "It probably wouldn’t be hard to fall back into your friendship."

“You’re so optimistic, Chibi-chan,” Oikawa sighs.

He thinks about it. How easy it would be to melt into their old mannerisms. To banter with Iwaizumi again, to ramble about things that only Iwaizumi would put up with, to play volleyball together again, to toss to him and be reminded of their high school days. 

"It might be better if you don't get involved with him again," Kageyama says quietly. "Lots of baggage. It’d be messy."

"Thanks for the advice Tobio-chan," Oikawa drawls. He takes another swig of his beer.

Oikawa returns to his apartment in the evening. There’s a twinge in his right knee from walking around all day and he’s a little buzzed from the drinks. He crashes into his bed the moment he’s home, closing his eyes for a few minutes before he has to wash up.

He smells smoke. 

Oikawa sits up, looking around his apartment. He didn’t leave anything on the stove, did he? He sniffs the air, pinpointing the smell to the balcony door that’s cracked open. Oikawa peeks his head out the door to see Iwaizumi leaned against the railing and a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“You smoke now?” he blurts out.

Iwaizumi whips around to face him. He stares a moment before clearing his throat. “Yeah, started in college. I’m trying to quit though.”

Oikawa nods. He’s still in the doorway, not sure if he should invite himself onto the balcony next to Iwaizumi. Shit, what does he say now? He’s never had this problem, trying to keep the conservation rolling between them. Iwaizumi speaks before he can. 

“How’s your knee doing?” 

Oikawa perks up at the question. “Good! Good, I’m doing physical therapy right now. Decided to do it here instead of Argentina because might as well be closer to home while I’m off a few months.”

“Hm.” 

Silence falls on them again as Oikawa grasps for something to say. Iwaizumi shakes the ash off his cigarette. 

“I’m gonna head in.”

“Iwa-chan, wait!” 

Iwaizumi freezes at the nickname. Oikawa curses at himself. What was he trying to do? He didn’t really have anything to say, but he wasn’t expecting the conversation to end so quickly. 

“Uh, nevermind. You head in.” Oikawa says. “Maybe take a shower too. You stink of cigarettes,” he adds.

Iwaizumi huffs a small laugh. “Okay, I’m next door if you need anything.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night, Oikawa.”

Oikawa goes back inside with a dopey grin on his face. _No, no, this is bad,_ he tells himself. This is a bad idea. He should be trying to distance himself, not blushing over their bare exchange. I shouldn’t talk to him too much, Oikawa thinks as he settles into bed. Yet he can’t stop himself from giggling into his pillow as he reruns through their conversation on the balcony. 

* * *

“Iwa-chan!” 

Oikawa bangs on Iwaizumi’s door. He doesn’t stop knocking even as he sees Iwaizumi striding over. Iwaizumi leans against the door frame, his arms crossed. 

“What do you want, Shittykawa?”

Oikawa’s grin widens at the use of his nickname. In the past, he might’ve whined at the name, but hearing it now was a strange comfort. 

“Can I borrow some sugar?” 

Iwaizumi blinks. “You don’t have any?”

“I just moved in, remember?” Oikawa clasps his hands together. “And I’m too lazy to go out and buy some, so can I please borrow some?”

“No.”

Oikawa’s stomach drops at the refusal. Did he cross a line or something? His dismay must show on his face because Iwaizumi snorts.

“How can you borrow food when you’re gonna eat it, dummy?” Iwaizumi jerks his head at his apartment. “Come in, I’ll get it for you.”

Oikawa steps into his apartment after a moment’s hesitation. The past few weeks, him and Iwaizumi have had a few exchanges, catching each other in the elevator and on the balcony. They never talked much beyond the events of their day, but Oikawa latched onto these fleeting moments. 

This is the first time Oikawa has been in Iwaizumi’s apartment. Iwaizumi had already been in Oikawa’s, after an instance where he screamed his head off upon seeing a spider crawl past him. Iwaizumi had rushed outside, searching for Oikawa in his apartment, to find him on top of the kitchen counter, pointing at a corner. Iwaizumi took the spider outside for him. 

But Oikawa’s apartment is still empty. He didn’t have it in him to decorate the place, knowing that he’d be leaving after a few months. Iwaizumi’s place is the complete opposite of Oikawa’s. He can see Iwaizumi’s collection of Godzilla movie DVDs stuffed under the TV. _Looks like he brought those with him from home._ A calendar hangs above his desk, the days crossed with a slash. A tower of textbooks are stacked on his desk, papers spread across and his laptop open. He catches a photo frame on the desk. It’s a photo of their volleyball team at a training camp when they were first years. Oikawa is flashing a peace sign to the camera, his arm slung around Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi isn’t even facing the camera, chomping into a watermelon slice. Oikawa turns away from the photo. 

The place looks lived in, Iwaizumi’s imprint all over the apartment. God, and it smells like him too, with some traces of cigarette smoke. All of a sudden, Oikawa feels like crying. It’s been so long since he’s been wrapped up in Iwaizumi’s scent and standing here makes his chest feel filled to brim, threatening to burst, with all the things that he’s tucked away the past four years. 

“Here. This is enough, right?” Iwaizumi hands him a tupperware container.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan. Nice place you’ve got here. It’s exactly like you.”

Iwaizumi tilts his head. “Oh yeah?”

“Yup! Very boring and plain,” Oikawa chirps. 

“Get out.”

Oikawa laughs as Iwaizumi ushers him out. 

* * *

This time, it’s Iwaizumi that’s knocking on his door. 

Oikawa gets up from his chair, prancing to the door. 

“My, my, have you already missed me Iwa-chan?” Oikawa says, his smile radiating. 

Iwaizumi looks at him, unimpressed. “Did you do your laundry yet?”

“Not yet. Why?”

“I’m about to do mine and was just wondering if you needed any help carrying anything.” Iwaizumi tugs at his collar. “You know, ‘cause of your knee.”

 _Was he being… shy right now?_ Oikawa can feel a blush coming on, but he plays it off with a smirk. “Aww, are you worried about me, Iwa-chan?” 

“Forget it,” Iwaizumi grumbles, but he makes no move to leave.

“Don’t be a tsundere! Wait right here, let me go get my stuff!”

Oikawa bounces to his room, plucking socks and other shedded clothing off the ground, and shoving them into his hamper. He lugs the thing out into the living room, where Iwaizumi waits, a laundry basket under his arm. 

“You can carry mine instead,” Iwaizumi says, “It’s not as heavy as yours.”

“Such a gentleman,” Oikawa teases. He tries to ignore the fluttering in his chest as he trades with Iwaizumi.

The two of them take the elevator down to the basement. The laundry room is unoccupied besides the two of them, as they unload their clothes into the washers. They wait on the bench while their clothes cycle. 

“Did you not have class today?” Oikawa asks, kicking his feet back and forth. 

“My classes finish early on Thursdays,” Iwaizumi explains.

“Must be nice to still be a student,” Oikawa yawns. “I’m a little jealous.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right! I was just saying that to make you feel better.”

“If anything, I should be jealous of you.” Iwaizumi glances at Oikawa in a way that makes him want to tremble. The air is heavy all of a sudden.

“Precisely!” Oikawa moves to prevent the conversation from sinking into something he won’t be able to get out of. “Want me to list all the reasons why?”

“No.”

“Well, first of all,” Oikawa continues as if he hadn’t heard Iwaizumi, “I’ve gotten to travel around a lot. I’ve seen many great sights that you haven’t.”

This is true. Having been to many countries in South America, Oikawa has garnered enough experience to fuel his wanderlust for ages. But he doesn’t tell Iwaizumi that being home in the face of familiarity has left him at ease more than ever.

“Two, I still have better hair. Seriously, Iwa-chan, all this time and no improvement! I bet you use those five-in-one shampoos.”

“Beats having to spend half a day in the bathroom,” Iwaizumi shrugs. “Some of us are busy with more important matters.”

“Oh my god, I was joking about the five-in-one shampoo,” Oikawa gasps. “Iwa-chan, you are like, the pure essence of man. How have you not changed at all?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna keep going with your list or what?”

“Oh right!”

“Shouldn’t have reminded you,” Iwaizumi mutters. 

“Reason number three, hm.” Oikawa taps his chin. “I never have to study again! Besides volleyball, but that’s different.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that. School’s a bitch sometimes.”

“Why sports medicine though?”

“Aiming to be an athletic trainer.”

“That’s cool!” Oikawa exclaims. “Any particular reason you chose that profession?”

Iwaizumi flushes at the question. He doesn’t answer right away and Oikawa is taken aback at what could’ve elicited this reaction.

“I mean, you obviously want to help others, right?” Oikawa stammers. “How noble of you, Iwa-chan!”

“Pfft, yeah, to help others so that they don’t end up hurting themselves like an idiot. Like someone I know.” Iwaizumi looks pointedly at Oikawa. Oikawa feels his cheeks grow hot. 

“I’ll say I really do envy you a bit,” he admits. “It seems like you’ve got things figured out.”

“Not really,” Iwaizumi coughs. 

Oikawa chooses not to reply. He swings his legs as they wait on the bench. The washing machine swooshes and vibrates, an occasional thump sounding in the basement. 

* * *

The next time Oikawa comes over to Iwaizumi’s place, there’s someone else there. 

“What’s up?” Iwaizumi asks him. 

“Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over.” Oikawa looks past Iwaizumi, his guest sitting on the sofa and peering back at him. He’s tall with a lean frame and he has the unruliest hair Oikawa has ever seen. His black hair spikes upwards in all different directions, some of it falling over his face in a fringe. He resembles a rooster, but manages to be somewhat good looking at the same time. He waves to Oikawa. Oikawa offers a slight smile, handing Iwaizumi a bag. “Some of your clothes got mixed up in mine, so…”

“Thanks. You wanna come in?” Iwaizumi offers. 

Oikawa holds up his hands. “It’s alright, I don’t wanna intrude.”

“Nah, we’re just hanging out. Unless you’re busy right now, then…” 

Oikawa chews on the inside of his cheek. He’s a little nervous at the prospect of meeting this person and finding out their relation to Iwaizumi. Oikawa shrugs. “Well, if you insist!” 

They’ve settled in the living room, drinks in hand. Iwaizumi gestures at the man. 

“This is Kuroo, he goes to my college. We played volleyball together during freshman and sophomore year. He was the captain for Nekoma in high school.” Iwaizumi turns to Oikawa. “And this is Oikawa, my…” he trails off, glancing at Oikawa. 

“Friend. We played together for a while. I was also captain in high school,” Oikawa finishes for him. 

Kuroo extends his hand out, his smile stretching wide. “Pleased to meet you, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa shakes his hand. “You can drop the _san_.”

“Likewise. You still play, Oikawa?”

“For a team in Argentina. I went overseas earlier than I planned—” Oikawa tries not to look at Iwaizumi, “but volleyball is volleyball. What position do you play?” 

“That’s amazing. I’m a middle blocker. Besides from being a full time babysitter back in the day.”

“As a former captain to a former captain,” Oikawa places a hand on his chest, “I know where you’ve been.”

“Trashykawa, I had to babysit you more than anything,” Iwaizumi scowls. 

Oikawa leans towards Kuroo. “You see the kids are always a handful.”

“They’ll never understand the burden we had to bear on our shoulders,” Kuroo whispers. 

Iwaizumi groans. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”

Kuroo is a funny guy. Oikawa assumed from the state of his hair that he couldn’t carry out any basic task, but he’s actually extremely resourceful. He’s studying sports marketing and works with his childhood friend turned lover, Kenma. It’s endearing how Oikawa learns more about Kenma than Kuroo himself, the man rambling about him every chance he can get. 

“How long have you known Iwaizumi?” Kuroo asks. 

“Since we were kids!” Oikawa beams. 

Kuroo quirks a brow, glancing at Iwaizumi. “Oh? So you guys were childhood friends too.”

“Kuroo,” Iwaizumi says. 

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

Oikawa looks between them. He feels like he’s missing out on something and he doesn’t like it. 

“Yep! That means I know everything there is to know about Iwa-chan!” 

Kuroo rubs his hands together menacingly. “So that means you know all the embarrassing things about him, right?”

“Oh, yes. Would you like to hear?”

“Shittykawa, if you don’t shut the fuck up—”

“Be my guest. I’m all ears.”

Oikawa ignores the glare Iwaizumi is giving him. This is his chance to establish his dominance as Iwa-chan’s best friend and it cannot be missed! 

“One time we were shopping together for new shoes and Iwa-chan found a pair of shoes lying next to a box on the floor, so he tries them on and walks around the store in them. Then this girl comes, looking absolutely horrified. She goes up to him and tells him take off her shoes and give them back to her—” Oikawa chokes on a laugh. 

Iwaizumi has his face in his hands. Kuroo is hunched over, wheezing. 

“Iwa-chan bowed like five hundred times to her! I’ve never seen him so flustered. And after that, he refused to step inside the store.”

Kuroo wipes a tear. “Oh geez, Iwaizumi, you poor, poor man.”

Iwaizumi’s face scrunches up. “Oh yeah? You know Oikawa saw a framed picture of him as a baby once and threw it on the ground because he thought it was some other baby and got jealous.”

“I was seven!” Oikawa shrieks. 

“He thought his mom had some other kid and he wasn’t her real son.”

“W-well, Iwa-chan sleeps with socks on! Even in the summer, when he’s shirtless and is only in boxers, he still wears them. And he even has special summer socks that are thinner.” 

_Ha! Two can play at this game!_

“Oh, I know,” Kuroo snickers, “He even wears them during sex.”

“What,” Oikawa blanches. 

“Can the both of you stop talking about this?” Iwaizumi hisses. He’s clutching onto the handles of his chair.

“How’d you know that!” Oikawa wails. 

“We’ve hooked up a couple times.”

Oikawa’s jaw drops at the admission. 

“Nothing serious though, we were both going through stuff.” Kuroo shoots a look at Iwaizumi again, the same one from before where the two of them are saying something to each other that Oikawa can’t pick up on. 

“Going through stuff?” Oikawa mumbles. 

Kuroo waves a hand. “College stuff. You know, freshman year, we had this talent show and Iwaizumi and I with some other guys on the volleyball team did a dance number to a J-pop song.”

Iwaizumi laughs. “Holy fuck, I killed that dance though. We should’ve won.”

“Right? I swear it was rigged, the same people win every year. Dude, I still have the video of our performance.”

“No way, send it to me.”

Kuroo launches into another story of their college days and Oikawa really tries to listen, but he’s tuned out the conversation, nodding along and sipping his drink. He isn’t upset that Iwaizumi has hooked up with other people. Instead, it’s the sobering fact that other people know things about Iwaizumi that Oikawa thought only he knew about. Even worse, they know things that Oikawa doesn’t know about, and Kuroo is living evidence. As much as he tries to act like things haven’t changed, there’s a four year gap between them. Oikawa’s stomach sinks at the realization that he doesn’t know everything there is to know about Iwaizumi. 

“ _Oi_ , earth to Trashykawa.”

Oikawa blinks. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

“You tired?” Iwaizumi asks, setting down his drink. 

“Um, a little bit. I had to wake up early today.” Oikawa flashes a sickly sweet smile at him. “Don’t worry about me too much, Iwa-chan! You’ll get forehead wrinkles.”

Iwaizumi stares at him hard. His gaze is so strong that Oikawa finds himself looking away. 

“I should head home anyways,” Kuroo says. “Kenma’s probably waiting for me. It was really nice meeting you, Oikawa. It’s good to make a friend.” 

Oikawa softens. “Same here.”

Kuroo takes his leave and it’s just Iwaizumi and him. The room is too quiet and it suffocates Oikawa. He was lying about being tired earlier, but now he feels drained. 

He gives Iwaizumi an apologetic smile. “I’m gonna tap out for the night. I have to wake up early again tomorrow.” He’s been plastering on a smile and he knows Iwaizumi can see through it, but he hopes he’ll let it go for now. 

Iwaizumi nods slowly. “Alright. Good night then.”

Oikawa lets out a breath and heads for the door. 

“Oikawa.”

He stops and turns to Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi looks unsure, his eyes wavering. “I’m next door if you need anything.”

Oikawa smiles warmly, but he’s sure it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Goodnight,” he says, before closing the sliding door. 

* * *

The day starts off relatively well. Oikawa wakes up, has some eggs and rice for breakfast, then heads to his physical therapy session. Then he finds himself completely unable to do a certain exercise, his muscles and joints working against himself. The trainer tries to reassure him that things like this were normal, but Oikawa had lost his motivation for the day. 

This isn’t a new problem for him. He tries to overcompensate with his ambition and it backfires on him. Oikawa never knows when to stop and for that, he’s been put on pause. 

He trudges home, sinking into his bed right away. He’s still sweaty, but his limbs weigh him down as if they were lead. Before he knows it, his cheeks are lined with tears. He misses volleyball _so much_. His body ached to step onto the court and feel the sting on his palm after serving the ball. But he’s stuck in one place while everyone moves ahead of him. He feels utterly powerless and he hates it because it’s his own damn fault. 

After some time, he pulls himself out of bed and goes out to the balcony for some fresh air. He finds Iwaizumi out as well, huffing a cigarette. 

Oikawa wrinkles his nose at the smell. “I thought you said you were quitting?”

Iwaizumi exhales, the fumes curling around him. “Working on it. I smoke when I’m stressed.” He puts out the cigarette even though it looks like it had just been lit.

“What’s got you so wound up, Iwa-chan? Did someone reject you?” Oikawa teases. 

“It’s you. You’re the most stress inducing person ever.”

Oikawa laughs, looking out at the scenery. “Yeah, I stress myself out too.”

Iwaizumi glances over at him, the dig at himself not going unmissed. He’s well practiced in catching onto Oikawa’s euphemisms. 

“It’s just school stuff,” Iwaizumi says. He pauses. “How’s your treatment going?”

Oikawa stiffens at the question and Iwaizumi knows he’s hit right on the nail. 

“It’s going alright. It’s just that…” Oikawa sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Iwaizumi hums, urging him to continue. 

“I couldn’t do an exercise today. My muscles just wouldn’t work with me. And I know that stuff like this is to be expected, but a month ago I could jump nearly half a meter and now I can’t even do a leg lift. I know I’m being unreasonable, I just—I don’t like it. It makes me feel weak.”

Oikawa’s shoulders drop after he finishes talking. It feels even worse voicing his thoughts aloud. Most of all, he hates how defeated he sounds to his own ears. 

“You’re not weak.” 

Oikawa turns to Iwaizumi. He’s gripping onto the railing and staring down at the river. 

“You wanna know why I want to be an athletic trainer?” Iwaizumi lifts his head to look at him. “I wasn’t joking when I said it was to prevent idiots like you from hurting themselves.” He looks away again. “It’s ‘cause of you, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa’s throat runs dry. He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Remember what I told you before? You’ll never be truly happy until you grow old because even after winning, you won’t be satisfied.” 

He does remember. Iwaizumi had told him that on their walk home, after they had lost to Karasuno, sealing away their last chance to nationals. The words ring in his head. 

“But that doesn’t matter, does it?” Iwaizumi peers at him, raising a brow. “Because you’ll chase volleyball to the end like a fool that knows nothing else.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be comforting me?” Oikawa pouts. 

“So even though that mentality has gotten you in this position, it’ll also get you out of it. You’ll still make yourself miserable ‘cause you’re good at that, but you’ll push through and get better.” The side of Iwaizumi’s mouth tilts up. “I told you to keep going, didn’t I? To keep on running towards it anyways. And you’ll do that without me saying because you’re that obsessed.”

Oikawa presses his mouth into a line, a smile twitching at his lips. Leave it to Iwa-chan to insult him and encourage him in the same breath. He pretends to be disgruntled, crossing his arms with a huff. “You have a strange way of saying things, Iwa-chan. But I guess you’re right.”

“Course I am. When have I ever been wrong?”

They both don’t talk for a while, gazing at the city’s expanse. It’s starting to get dark, which means that the city begins to glow. The cicadas chorus as the sky dims and it reminds Oikawa of Miyagi. He thinks of when they used to play as kids, chasing and catching bugs with oversized nets. It was more of Iwaizumi doing the chasing, Oikawa was never really into bugs. Instead, he would run away from them in a panicked fervor, tripping over his feet and scraping his knees and elbows. Iwaizumi would scold him, but brush away his tears and dust him off nonetheless. 

“You would make a good athletic trainer,” Oikawa says. “A scary one though.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Thanks.” 

Oikawa studies Iwaizumi’s side. His features appear softer right now, lit up by the moonlight. Oikawa peers up at the moon. It seems so close to them from here. He knows the moon hangs in the same place every day, but standing on the balcony, he has a rushing desire to reach for it. 

* * *

Another morning, another physical therapy appointment. Things have been going smoothly, or at least as smooth as possible to Oikawa Tooru Standards. He can feel his strength coming back to him, the exercises growing easier day by day. According to his trainer, if he kept it up, he’d be able to return to volleyball soon. 

Oikawa waits outside the elevator doors, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. He hums a random tune, breaking off when he sees Iwaizumi walking down the hall towards him. 

“Good morning, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa waves to him. 

Iwaizumi stands next to him, a small smile on his lips. “Morning.” His eyes dart down to the pad wrapped around Oikawa’s knee. “You heading to therapy?”

Oikawa nods, noticing that Iwaizumi is dressed up more than usual. Instead of his usual jeans and hoodie, he has on grey pants and a black button down over a white tee. His sleeves are rolled up to show off his forearms and a watch accentuates his wrist. Oikawa grins at Iwaizumi. “Woah, you look fancy today! You have a date or something?”

“Yeah, I do.

Oikawa’s grin falls off his face. “You do?”

Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck. “Just someone my friends set me up with.”

The elevator doors open, sounding a ding. Iwaizumi steps into the elevator, Oikawa trailing in after him. The air is stifled by their silence. Oikawa didn’t mean to clam up—of course Iwaizumi would be going on dates and meeting people. It’s not like he expected him to sit still all this time, in fact, Oikawa had seen some people as well. But that was during the four years they didn’t speak to each other, with miles in between them. 

The elevator rings, arriving on the ground floor. They both walk out to the lobby, Iwaizumi casting side glances at Oikawa. Oikawa stops mid-step, turning to face him. He reaches towards Iwaizumi’s nape, flattening out his collar, and mustering out the grandest smile he can. 

“Now you look presentable! Remember not to scare them off, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa bends down a little, knowing that always grinds his gears, and pats his head.

“Shut up, Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi pushes his hands away with a scowl, but his eyes have an amused glint in them. “See you later.”

Iwaizumi takes off and Oikawa’s eyes are fixed on his back as he walks away. This is the same back that used to begrudgingly carry him when they were kids. The broad expanse of skin and muscle that Oikawa would stare at as he flew in the air and spiked a ball that Oikawa tossed to him. The same one that Oikawa would slink his arms around, pulling Iwaizumi flush to him. Oikawa has seen and felt the warmth and contours of this back all his life, a constant reassurance of what is there, of what is _familiar_. 

Never before has Oikawa regarded it as something foreign. 

It occurs to him, the realization that Iwaizumi has moved ahead. He can see it in the unexchanged words between him and Kuroo, in the cigarette smell lingering on his clothes, in his diluted Miyagi dialect, and in the spread of his back as he walks further away, while Oikawa is rooted to the ground, unable to lift his feet. It washes over him—not suddenly, like a bucket poured over his head, but gradually, like water seeping into his bones—that time and distance hasn’t changed anything for him. Oikawa thought before that he was being put on pause and that seems to hold true for this too.

He’s still in love with Iwaizumi. 

* * *

It doesn’t happen often—for Oikawa to self-destruct, to lose the confidence that he shields himself with, that he prides himself over. So he does the only reasonable thing. 

He avoids Iwaizumi. 

Oikawa meticulously plans so that he doesn’t cross paths with him. He doesn’t dare to step out onto the balcony, he stays in his room instead of the living room so that Iwaizumi won’t wave to him through the glass, he replies to Iwaizumi’s texts of doing laundry together with a “sorry, I already did them,” and he goes as far as to taking the _six floors of stairs_ whenever he sees Iwaizumi waiting by the elevator. 

It proves to be harder than he expected. Oikawa thought after four years of experience, he’d be able to do this much, but he supposes it’s different when Iwaizumi lives right fucking next to him. Of course Oikawa missed him when he was in Argentina, but it was easier to put him out of his thoughts. Now that Iwaizumi is literally within a few meters reach, giving in is a persistent temptation. He knows that Iwaizumi is probably aware of his efforts to avoid him, the few glimpses of Iwaizumi’s confused expression driving the knife even deeper. Concealing himself in his room certainly gives him more time to mope around. Iwaizumi was right; he really is a shitty person. He disappeared from Iwaizumi’s life, barged right back in and acted as if they were besties again—he never stopped to wonder how Iwaizumi felt about it too—and now he’s ghosting him again without any explanation.

Makki and Mattsun really aren’t helping him feel better about it either. 

He’s sitting at a quaint ramen bar, a deep bowl of steaming broth in front of him, and the two of them on his right. Matsukawa had driven down to Tokyo from Miyagi for something pertaining to his job. Oikawa never got over the fact that he worked at a funeral home. How morbid, yet it completely makes sense.

Oikawa has met up with Hanamaki a few times since they were both in Tokyo, but this is the first time the three of them have been together since he left for Argentina. He had been hesitant to accept Hanamki’s invite because surely Iwaizumi would be there? But turns out it conflicted with his schedule and Iwaizumi wasn’t bothered since he saw them plenty anyway. Sitting here while they giggle and feed each other gyoza dumplings, Oikawa could maybe guess why Iwaizumi dipped too. Being a constant third wheel must have its limits.

Oikawa stabs a gyoza dumpling with his chopstick. He’s pouting, resting his chin on his palm. He watches as Hanamki pushes his bowl to Matsukawa, the leftover broth too salty for him. It works out because that happens to be Mattsukawa’s favorite part. 

“You guys are disgustingly domestic,” Oikawa scowls as Mattsukawa slurps it down.

“You mean to say that we have a happy, healthy, thriving relationship?” Hanamaki croons. “Jealous much?”

He scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Matsukawa gulps the last drop of broth. “Isn’t there something going on between you and Iwaizumi?”

“When is there never something going on between them?” Hanamaki says, rolling his eyes. 

Oikawa stills, going silent. Seems like he can never really catch a break for once in his life. It’s a bit twisted, just how much Iwaizumi and him have always been entangled with each other. 

“So… what if I said that I never really… got over him?”

The two glance at each other, then turn back to him, their gazes softer. 

“We figured just as much,” says Hanamaki. 

Oikawa slumps into the crook of his arm. “This is terrible,” he moans. “I can’t believe I’m pining over someone like this. God couldn’t find someone to match up to me so he made me suffer instead. What did I do to deserve this divine retribution?”

“How tragic.”

“Makki, I’m serious. I’m miserable. I feel like my feelings are consuming my life force. I’m going to burn out and all that’ll be left is an Oikawa Tooru shell that collectively wastes away with ten cats.”

“Then why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” says Matsukawa. 

“Because!” Oikawa cries, “Let’s say he doesn’t feel the same way, then I would have to swallow down my feelings, but I would still love him and then I’ll want more. I’ll want more because it won’t be enough and I would rather have nothing than to always be yearning for something I’ll never get. So eventually, I wouldn’t be able to contain all my gross, lovey-dovey feelings and they would be all over the place and it would just be ugly and embarrassing.”

Hanamaki furrows his brows. “So what are you proposing? That you wouldn’t be friends anymore? Run away to Argentina again?”

“I didn't run away! And why do you have to make me sound like the bad guy?” Oikawa whines. 

Hanamaki shakes his head. “You are _such_ a Cancer.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not saying you’re the bad guy, Oikawa, but you do tend to victimize yourself. You get caught up in all that self pity that it’s easy to overlook other people’s feelings. People can’t read your mind—not even Iwaizumi.” 

There’s a bitter taste in his mouth from having his flaws picked out like this because Makki’s being serious and Oikawa knows he’s right. 

Matsukawa reaches over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Look, we know you don’t mean any harm. You probably do it to protect yourself, but it wouldn’t hurt to open up once in a while.”

Oikawa swirls the leftover soup with his spoon. “You know, this was one of the reasons why Iwa-chan and I broke up,” he mutters. “I was scared because we were going to different universities and so I shut myself off. We fought about stupid stuff, I can’t even remember half of the things we said. But that time around, he didn’t have any more patience for me and he just kinda… snapped. It was the first time that ever happened and I guess it broke something in me. I thought he couldn’t deal with me anymore.”

Hanamaki breathes out a sigh. “Dear lord, who thought it was a good idea to put the Gemini and Cancer together?”

“Oikawa, do you know how Hiro and I make long distance work?” Matsukawa asks. 

“Phone sex?”

“No.”

“Well, it definitely is a factor.”

“Hiro, no.”

“Mattsun, you tiger!”

Matsukawa slaps a hand on his forehead. “Communication, okay?” He fixes Oikawa a serious look. “It’s not easy being far away from each other. Some days you feel like shit about it. But that’s why you should talk to your partner instead of letting it fester.”

It seems logical. Do-able. But easier said than done. Being stuck in a limbo sounds more appealing than telling Iwaizumi all of his terrible thoughts. 

“I know it’s scary,” says Hanamaki, “but you’ve been through this already to know. Both of you made mistakes, but now you have the chance not to make the same ones. It’s not just you, Iwaizumi’s probably all stirred up too.” He places a hand on Oikawa’s knee. “Just talk to him, okay?” he says softly. 

Oikawa goes home with their advice fresh in his head. His stomach turns at the thought of confessing to Iwaizumi. Hi, I’m still in love with you! Even though I broke up with you and then didn’t talk to you for four years? Any sane person would be pissed out of their mind if they heard that. Oikawa starts to feel sick. If Iwaizumi actually got mad at him… he doesn’t know if he could handle that. He was certain that Iwaizumi had hated him when Oikawa first ran into him, but was relieved and surprised to see that Iwaizumi didn’t hold any hard feelings against him. Instead he was nice to Oikawa. He was _so nice_ , it was unbelievable. To imagine Iwaizumi growing weary of him again, lashing out as he reaches the end of his stick—Oikawa’s heart gives a pinching twinge. 

He would give himself a few days to sort himself out. Oikawa fishes out his phone as he enters the elevator, pulling up Google, and punching in, “Gemini and Cancer compatibility.”

“Only twenty one percent?” Oikawa screeches. 

He scrolls down the page, utter offense displayed on his face. Twenty five percent on trust, which is just straight up wrong. Ten percent on values. Fifteen percent on emotions. Five percent on sexual intimacy. This website doesn’t know what it’s talking about.

Finally entering his apartment, he chucks his phone on the sofa, flopping onto his side. He can still smell remnants of the ramen bar on him, the aroma of miso soup seeping into the collar of his jacket. Oikawa sniffs deeper. There’s something else too. He knows this smell—cigarette smoke. 

He cranes his neck to peer out at the balcony. It’s hard to see Iwaizumi from here, but he knows he’s out there, the white wisps of smoke visible against the dark sky. Oikawa bites his lip. He told himself he would give it a few days, but what better time than now? Delaying it might make Iwaizumi even angrier. Oikawa might as well face Iwaizumi now before he can convince himself otherwise. 

Iwaizumi is leaning against the railing, cigarette dangling between his lips. The end of the stick burns orange when he sucks in, fumes escaping as he blows out. Oikawa approaches the railing, but stands with some distance between them. 

“Um, hi.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t look at him, flicking the ash off his cigarette. 

“So, uh—”

“Did you decide to stop avoiding me?” Iwaizumi looks at him with an impassive stare.

Oikawa inwardly swears. Shit. Iwaizumi smokes when he’s stressed, which means he’s definitely mad at him right now. Oikawa expected this, but now he has to talk to a pissed Iwaizumi and he can’t back out. Oikawa licks his lips. He’s nervous. He doesn’t want to irritate Iwaizumi further. 

“I was out with Makki and Mattsun today,” he says, choosing to not answer Iwaizumi’s question for now. “Why couldn’t you make it?”

“Because if I did, then you wouldn’t go.” 

Oikawa feels like he’s been blown back. “What? Why would you do that?”

“I’m right though, no?” Iwaizumi arches a brow. 

“You don’t have to baby me!”

“Well, what do you expect when you act like one?”

“What the hell?” Oikawa grinds his teeth. “What are you, my mom?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Childish as always. I really had to endure a lot as your boyfriend,” he mutters. 

He can’t stop himself from saying this next thing. It’s childish, just what Iwaizumi thinks of him, but he didn’t mean for this conversation to escalate so quickly and now his feelings are spilling over. 

Oikawa swallows, his throat dry. “So how did your date go?” 

He isn’t sure if he actually managed to say it or not, his head all muddled and foggy. But then he sees something flashing in Iwaizumi’s eyes as he scoffs, laughing in a scary way.

“Are you fucking with me right now? All because of—” Iwaizumi runs a hand through his hair and steps back, as if trying to restrain himself. “I just _can’t_ with you.”

Oikawa feels something flare up in him. “Yeah? I bet they don’t know how insufferable you can be. You’re not an angel either, _Iwa-chan_ ,” he says, spitting the nickname mockingly. “I mean, your feet always smell, probably ‘cause you never listen to me and put socks on right after showering. You always refuse help because you think you know everything. And you have too much pride to talk about your feelings like a normal person.”

Iwaizumi takes the cigarette out of his mouth, smoke trailing from his lips. “ _Me_? _I_ have too much pride to talk about my feelings? Look who’s talking.”

His response stings and Oikawa wants to say it’s not that he’s too prideful, but because he’s _scared._ So he ignores it and bites back.

“So what? Doesn’t change the fact that you have the emotional capability of a caveman. On top of that, you’re way more jealous than you let on. And you’re no fun. A total downer.”

“Well, you’re always over the top and you never know when to tone it down. You flirt with everyone and you do it on purpose, don’t you? Always trying to test me and get me mad for your own entertainment. You’re so demanding, never listening to me and expecting me to follow. I always had to go by your schedule, and you always made me order something that you liked so that you could steal off of me—always doing stupid things to get my attention.” 

Iwaizumi takes a drag from his cigarette, exhaling the fumes with a long sigh. Oikawa opens his mouth, ready to leap into a retort, but Iwaizumi beats him to it. 

“But come to think of it, I didn’t mind putting up with all that.” He turns to look at Oikawa. “It’d be different if it was anyone else, but because it was you, it wasn’t all so bad.”

Oikawa sucks in a breath. It’s as if the ground has cracked under him. He clings onto the railing and shakes his head. “Time out.”

Iwaizumi cocks his head. “Time out? You’re trying to call a time out in the middle of conversation? This isn’t a game match.”

“I know that! You—you can’t just say things like that out of nowhere!” Oikawa splutters. 

“Why not?”

Oikawa holds his face in his hands, defeated at the turn of events. “Because it confuses me.”

There’s a silence before he can hear Iwaizumi moving towards him, tossing the cigarette aside, prying Oikawa’s hands away to cup his cheeks, and tilting his face to press his lips against his own. 

His mind reels, swirling with thoughts too flimsy to grab onto. He can’t think or move and when Iwaizumi pulls away, Oikawa looks at him with incredulous eyes. 

Iwaizumi grips his shoulders. “Are you still confused?”

He can feel the backs of his eyes burning. His face scrunches up as he pushes Iwaizumi away from him. “That confused me even more!” To his horror, tears are streaming down his cheeks, his hands trembling as he tries to wipe them away. 

“Wow, you still cry real ugly.” 

“Iwa-chaaaan, so mean! I know you secretly think I’m cute like this!”

Iwaizumi takes his hands, holding them still and tugging him closer. He’s staring at him with such a fond look and all Oikawa can do is stand there as Iwaizumi wraps an arm around him and leans in, slotting his mouth over his.

This time, Iwaizumi kisses him with such an intensity it makes his legs weak. His hands tighten around Iwaizumi’s biceps, letting out a shivery breath as Iwaizumi curls his tongue around his. Everything is _warm_ and Oikawa can feel himself going slack in Iwaizumi’s arms, all soft and pliant as Iwaizumi tilts his head further, kissing him languidly. Iwaizumi drags his tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away, his breath hot against Oikawa’s lips. 

“You taste like cigarettes,” Oikawa pants. “I can’t decide if that’s hot or gross.”

Iwaizumi smiles, lopsided. “Come over?” 

Oikawa nods, his voice refusing to come out. His body is on autopilot as he follows Iwaizumi, steps into his apartment, watches as Iwaizumi draws the curtains over the glass door and yanks him towards his room. 

* * *

The first thing he registers is that there’s a heavy weight over his torso. 

Oikawa blinks away the remnants of sleep as he realizes the second thing. He’s in Iwaizumi’s room. In his bed. With him. And the heavy weight is Iwaizumi’s arm draped over him, holding Oikawa flush to his chest. 

Oikawa lies there, his face heating up as he replays the events from last night in his head. He groans internally. How did things even get so out of hand? Not that he regrets anything, but how was he supposed to sort things out now? Where do they go from here?

There’s rustling and the arm wrapped around Oikawa’s waist turns him around to face Iwaizumi. 

“So are we dating now?” Oikawa blurts.

Iwaizumi raises a brow. “We fucked last night.”

Oikawa squeals, swatting his arm. “So vulgar, Iwa-chan! Have some modesty, will ‘ya?” He huffs before rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I have to go back, you know? To Argentina.” 

“And?”

“And, I don’t know!” Oikawa makes rapid hand movements in the air. “You’d be willing to do long distance?”

“Oikawa, look at me.”

He turns his neck to Iwaizumi, who’s propped up on his arm, his temple pressed against his fist as he stares down at Oikawa. 

“I’m not letting us go this time. I’m sorry it had to happen once for me to say this.”

“I’m sorry too,” Oikawa says weakly. “For running away. I thought you couldn’t put up with me anymore so I thought it’d be better if I stopped things first.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze softens. “I’ve dealt with you all my life. If I couldn’t handle you, I would’ve ditched a long time ago, dummy.” He brushes the fringe off Oikawa’s forehead. “We’ll make it work, yeah?”

Oikawa nods, scooting closer to Iwaizumi and burrowing his face in his chest. “I missed you,” he mumbles. He smiles against Iwaizumi’s skin. “Even if you still wear socks during sex.”

“Fuck off, my feet get cold easily okay?”

Oikawa lets out a laugh, snuggling deeper. Iwaizumi breathes into the top of his head. "I missed you," he says, "a lot."

There’s a pause before Oikawa tilts his head up to Iwaizumi. “Did you and Kuroo really used to sleep together?”

Iwaizumi groans, averting his eyes away. “Yeah, but it’s not like we were actually into each other or anything. He was trying to get over Kenma and I was also trying to…. you know.”

“Makes sense. I was going to say I can’t really see you two together.”

“I don’t know, I mean we really bonded over the whole pining for your childhood friend thing.”

Oikawa snorts. He tucks his chin into the crook of Iwaizumi’s shoulder, studying the sight laid out before him. Iwaizumi has always appeared a little rough, but he looked so _soft_ right now. So relaxed and unexpectant. There’s a small hole in his left earlobe that wasn’t there before. He’s never seen Iwaizumi wear an earring. Oikawa would have to ask him about it later. His hair is a bit mussed from their sleep, but still as spiky as ever, though the sides are cut shorter than the top. It makes him look sharper, less like a messy teenage boy and more like a steady man. Iwaizumi looks handsome like this. The time they’ve spent apart shows in all these new details, things that Oikawa are just now noticing—but Iwaizumi is right in front of him now.

Iwaizumi looks down at him, cocking a brow. “You hungry yet?”

Oikawa hums into the skin of Iwaizumi’s throat. He clutches onto Iwaizumi tighter and shakes his head with a smile. 

“Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! you can say hi to me on [twt](https://twitter.com/markbffs) :)


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